


This Simple (Human) Feeling

by Tangela



Series: Boy toy named Troy used to live in Detroit [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Sort Of, Touch-Starved, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-14 14:29:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15390771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tangela/pseuds/Tangela
Summary: Since going against his programming, Connor is learning to get used to more "human" experiences. One in particular he can't quite satisfy by himself.





	1. First Incident (T)

**Author's Note:**

> The fluffy beginning to A Matter of Curiosity (if you're reading it as a two part series), which can be found here:
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/15711777/chapters/36519060

Hank found Connor at his desk, as he always was every morning. Since becoming deviant, he’d developed a few new habits. Lately he’d taken to perching on the end of Hank’s desk, rather than standing at attention next to it as he had before.

 _These deviants are out of control,_ Hank thought to himself with a wry smile.

“Good morning, Lieutenant,” Connor greeted with a smile.

“What’s so good about it? I’m awake at this hour,” Hank retorted, but there was no real malice behind it. Not anymore. “And for the last time, it’s Hank.”

“My apologies…Hank,” Connor said, as if testing the word out.

Hank sat down in his chair, taking a sip of his coffee. Connor was unusually quiet, and he’d only just sat down. Normally by this point, he’d have launched into a full breakdown of their assigned case, leaving Hank to try and juggle keeping up with him and still trying to wake up at the same time. But today, something wasn’t quite right. Connor seemed, for lack of a better word, off.

“What’s the matter with you?” Hank asked, “You’re awfully quiet and it’s freaking me out.”

Connor looked deep in thought. “I have something I’d like to discuss with you,” he replied after some time.

“What is it?”

Connor was always so put together - he was made that way, after all - that this seemed almost…Well, Hank had no other word for it – human. He was even fidgeting, for Christ’s sake. What’s an android need to fidget for?

“While we’re still young,” he said, trying to urge Connor on.

“I’ve been thinking,” he began, and Hank rolled his eyes.

“God help us all,” he muttered.

Connor was quickly becoming accustomed to Hank’s sense of humour, and rarely questioned the sarcastic comments anymore. He pressed on.

“Since going against my original programming, I’ve been thinking about what it means to be human.”

Hank just looked at him. He’d giving up on trying to read him – just how the hell were you supposed to read a machine anyway? - but out of habit, he would watch him sometimes, his facial expressions, hand gestures; as if he could he could figure out what made him tick, beyond the obvious bolts and batteries. Sometimes he couldn’t switch off from being a detective, though not for lack of trying.

“Lately I’ve noticed that I’m very sensitive to touch,” Connor told him, in such a matter-of-fact tone that Hank almost spat coffee on himself.

“Excuse me?” he asked, setting the cup down for fear of what Connor might say next.

“My surface- skin,” Connor quickly corrected, “has become so responsive to everything now. Look.”

He pulled his sleeve up and held his arm up to the fan on Hank’s desk.

“Goosebumps,” he said with a satisfied smile.

_How in the hell?_

Hank shook his head in mild disbelief. “You lot are just full of surprises.”

Connor rolled his sleeve down again, turning his attention back to Hank. “Which brings me to the problem I’ve developed lately.”

There it was again, that look. A mix of confusion and conflict and…embarrassment. That was it. But what would an android programmed for law enforcement need with an emotion like embarrassment? Seemed pointless in Hank’s eyes.

“I’ve noticed that humans spend a lot of time touching each other.”

Hank was so grateful he’d put his cup down, or he’d definitely be dealing with a lapful of hot coffee right now.

“Just what are you trying to tell me?” he asked.

“It’s something that I’d like to explore more.”

“And that means…what, exactly?” Hank was beginning to feel very embarrassed himself.

Connor frowned. “I haven’t quite figured that out yet.”

Hank dared to lift his cup of coffee again. “So what, you’re looking to get laid or something? ‘Cause you should be talking to somebody at the Eden Club, not me.”

Connor shook his head. “I wasn’t referring to intercourse.”

“Sure sounded that way to me.”

“Humans do have a tendency to make most things about intercourse, don’t they?” Connor mused.

“Don’t need to tell me that. And stop calling it intercourse, I feel like I’m in 10th grade biology again,” Hank griped.

“What I was referring to was how you use touch to relay affection or companionship amongst one another. It’s…interesting.”

If Hank didn’t know any better, he’d say Connor looked wistful.

“Look, when you figure out what it is you want, let me know, alright?” he said, with a rare tone of sincerity, “But haven’t we work to be getting on with right now?”

Connor lifted the case file beside him. “Of course, my apologies.”

No more was said on the matter for the rest of the morning. It was a standard start, nothing major to report, and Hank couldn’t help his thoughts from wandering. He found himself watching Connor more and more throughout the day. Before any unnecessary movement was deemed a waste, and if Connor didn’t need to move, he wouldn’t. But now…Things had definitely changed in him. He frowned more, for one thing, as if he were concentrating or something had bothered him, and he had developed a habit for fidgeting. He had become quite fond of shaking his leg, which annoyed Hank to no end.

“Would you cut it out?” he griped, putting his hand on Connor’s leg.

Normally when he’d annoyed Hank, he would apologise, but this time Connor had nothing to say. He just stared at Hank’s hand on his leg.

Hank noticed him staring and quickly retracted his hand. “I can’t concentrate when you do that.”

Connor remained quiet, and when Hank looked at him, he was still staring at his leg. He turned his attention back to the paperwork in front of him. Today was going to be a long day, and it wasn’t even the afternoon yet.


	2. Second Incident (T)

The topic of Connor’s new habits didn’t come up again until a few days later. A particularly nasty case involving a triple homicide and a deviant perp had left Hank in severe need of a drink. Now that more and more androids were going against their intended programming, the amount of android-related crimes was on the rise. They wanted to be seen as human, but that didn’t necessarily mean that they all wanted to be seen as good.

Hank didn’t even realise Connor was tagging along until they were both in the car. At least, that’s what he told himself. He still hadn’t quite gotten to the point of admitting that occasionally he liked the company. It always seemed as though when the two of them were making progress in their friendship, Hank’s stubborn old ways would create a roadblock. The fact that Connor put up with it only showed his own stubbornness. Two of a kind.

Hank ordered his usual, being a well-known face to the staff of one of his favourite haunts.

“I’ll have the same, please,” Connor said, as the pair sat down at the bar.

Hank looked at him. “Where does it even go?” he asked.

“If I asked you the same question, you’d call me rude,” Connor replied.

“Well, shit, you got me there.”

Hank looked up at the TV mounted on the wall next to the bar, quickly becoming distracted by the football game. He didn’t notice it right away, and then when he did, he couldn’t not notice it. A tapping noise. Repeated, in a constant rhythm. He turned his head. Connor was drumming his fingers absent-mindedly on the wood of the bar. A few seconds was all Hank could take of it.

“Will you stop that already?” he said, putting his hand on Connor’s.

Just like before, Connor said nothing, and when Hank took his hand away, Connor just sat there staring at it. This was a little too weird for Hank’s liking, even by android standards.

He took a swig of his drink and turned his attention back to the TV, trying not to think about it. There it was again. Connor was drumming his fingers against the bar, and Hank could swear he was going mad, but it was definitely louder this time. He was starting to think Connor was doing it on purpose. He knocked back the rest of his drink, gesturing to the bartender for another one.

“What do you get out of that?” he asked. Maybe if he knew the reason behind it, it’d kill the rising urge to hit Connor. Somehow he doubted it.

“It’s something that humans do often, I’ve noticed,” Connor replied, watching his fingers hit against the surface.

“Yeah, but you don’t have to do everything we do, just because…because you’re more like us.”

Connor smiled. “I think that’s the closest you’ve ever come to complimenting me.”

Hank just scoffed. “Don’t get used to it.”


	3. Finale (T)

Connor insisted on driving Hank home from the bar, despite Hank’s grumbling that he was fine to drive and accusations of Connor mothering him.

“If you can walk in a straight line, I’ll let you drive the car,” he said simply.

Hank mumbled something about Connor having a stick up his ass and got into the passenger seat.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Hank,” Connor said as he pulled up outside Hank’s house.

“You’re coming in,” was all Hank said as he got out of the car.

It had to be the booze talking, and Connor said as much.

“It’s late, and you need your rest.”

“You’re coming in,” Hank repeated, slamming the car door.

Maybe it was the booze, maybe he felt sorry for Connor. Hank wasn’t in the mood to question it. His one condition was that he “sit there and shut up”. Of course Hank knew by now that the words ‘shut up’ very rarely computed with Connor anymore, at least where he was concerned. It had been fifteen minutes and Connor had already offered three facts on the movie they were supposed to be watching. Hank was already well into his second drink since sitting down. He had trouble sleeping at the best of times, and most nights when he couldn’t be bothered with the tossing and turning routine, he would put on an old movie and pour himself a drink and eventually nod off in front of the TV. It wasn’t ideal, but sleep was sleep.

Connor was about to open his mouth again and Hank just lifted his hand and put it over his mouth.

“I’m warning you, enough. Sound off,” he grumbled.

He caught Connor’s expression as he took his hand away. That definitely looked like embarrassment.

 _Is he turning red? How the hell is he even doing that?_ Hank stared down at his hand. _Is it the touch thing? Christ, I always end up with the loose screws._

Connor was eerily quiet now, and Hank was staring to think he preferred when he was talking. At least when he was talking, he knew what was going on in his head. He couldn’t concentrate on the TV anymore, he kept finding himself looking over at Connor, until he was nearly exclusively looking at him.

_The hell’s the matter with me?_

He had to do something, and it was driving him mad trying to figure it out. The drink was not helping at all.

And then it hit him.

_Oh, Christ, Hank._

“C’mere.”

Before Connor could say anything, Hank had slung an arm around him, pulling him in against his side.

“I’m not sure I-” he started, and Hank shook his head.

“Just shut up and watch the movie, will you?”

Connor fell silent, and after a time relaxed himself against Hank, eventually working up the nerve to rest his hand on top of Hank’s on his shoulder. Hank didn’t say anything, the two of them sitting in a comfortable silence for a while, until Connor started fidgeting again. Hank held his tongue to begin with, but after a while it was starting to get on his nerves.

“Would you stop? You’re digging your elbow into me,” he said, turning his head to see what Connor was doing. He wasn’t expecting Connor to be looking up at him. And his expression…Hank was a complete loss. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say Connor was going to…

_What the hell am I thinking?_

“What’s the matter with y-”

Hank didn’t even manage to finish his sentence when Connor was leaning in, and before he could even register what was going, he was kissing him. Hank’s first thought was to push him away, but then he felt tentative, almost scared, fingers against his cheek, and fuck it, who was Hank to deny himself a good thing now and again? He let Connor kiss him, eventually working up the courage to kiss him back, placing a hand on Connor’s cheek. Christ, it was scary how human he felt – Hank had always assumed an android would be cold to the touch, at least the ones not specifically designed for human interaction. But Connor was warm, and Hank could even feel little imperfections across his skin.

When he eventually pulled away, Connor was just looking at him. Even his eyes…there was so much depth to them.

“You taste like whiskey,” was all he said.

“No shit,” Hank replied.

Connor laughed.

“When’d you learn to do that?”

“Humans think themselves so unique,” Connor teased with a little smile.

Hank just rolled his eyes. “Hey, you can’t say shit like that. You’re supposed to be one of us now.”

Connor didn’t reply, instead just looking at Hank. Hank felt himself beginning to squirm under his gaze.

“Knock that off, will you? I’m starting to miss your LED light, I can’t tell what you’re thinking anymore.”

“Do you see me as human?” Connor asked.

“Well…” _Fuck, how do I even answer this?_ “You’re annoying, and you talk a lot, and the fidgeting habit has been getting on my last nerve lately, so…yeah, I know plenty of humans like you.”

“You can’t ever just give someone a compliment, can you?” Connor teased.

Hank shrugged. “I’m not programmed that way.” A small smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. It didn’t go unnoticed.

“You should smile more, it suits you.”

“You should shut up, I bet that’d suit you,” Hank griped, but the little smile was still there. He turned his attention back to the TV. “You done now? I’m missing the good part.”

Connor rested his head on Hank’s shoulder, a small smile of his own forming. “Yes, I’m done.”

A few minutes of silence passed before Connor spoke again.

“Hank?”

“What is it now?”

“Thank you.”

Hank just squeezed Connor’s shoulder lightly. “Don’t mention it.”

**Author's Note:**

> I had the idea for this in a half-sleep at two in the morning, and I haven't explored every aspect of the game, so forgive me if a few details are wrong. These two remind me so much of John and Dorian from Almost Human and I love that dynamic, so I wanted to give it a go. (And yes, the title is a Star Trek reference.) I hope it's okay! Kudos and/or comments are greatly appreciated! My writing tumblr is @maybeishouldwritesomething if you'd like to send a message or request. Thank you for reading!


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